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Let's Check In on 635 Express Lanes in Dallas


Vic Mackey

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It's stupid but on stock bikes, some manufacturers limit the max speedometer reading to 186-189 mph. It corresponds to 299 kmh/h. Basically, the bike will go faster but it won't tell you how much faster. No experience with this, but I've read about it.

Bikes and cars have gotten ridiculous. I've done 152 mph on a relatively slow bike at COTA (GPS), and I've seen ~170 mph in cars on the back straight. 

On the highway, I always love when pickup trucks try to run me over at 90+ mph. Riders aren't the only assholes out there . . .

Edited by NYTransplant
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I got my mom's 1970 Ford Galaxie 500 station wagon up to 103 mph on a Farm to Market road near Brenham about a month after getting my driver's license.  It could have done more, but the front end was feeling wobbly, so I backed down.  My three younger brothers and the son of my mom's best friend were in the car, and were duly sworn to secrecy.  We dropped the friend off, then headed home.  As soon as we walked in the door I could see by my mother's face that the friend had ratted me out, and his mom had called my mom.  Before she could say a word one of my brothers yells, "Mama, your car can go 100 mph!  Isn't that cool?"  No.  No, it was not cool. 

I lost my license for three months.  I couldn't drive to and from two-a-days, and it was seven miles one way from home to the school, so my oldest little brother and I got dropped off in the morning, went to the morning practice, stayed in town all day, went to the second practice, then walked seven miles home in the evening.  It was brutal, but the lesson was learned.  I never drove the friend anywhere again, and had to be forced to drive the loudmouth brother anywhere.  Snitches.

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9 hours ago, Scheiss Meister said:

I got my mom's 1970 Ford Galaxie 500 station wagon up to 103 mph on a Farm to Market road near Brenham about a month after getting my driver's license.  It could have done more, but the front end was feeling wobbly, so I backed down.  My three younger brothers and the son of my mom's best friend were in the car, and were duly sworn to secrecy.  We dropped the friend off, then headed home.  As soon as we walked in the door I could see by my mother's face that the friend had ratted me out, and his mom had called my mom.  Before she could say a word one of my brothers yells, "Mama, your car can go 100 mph!  Isn't that cool?"  No.  No, it was not cool. 

I lost my license for three months.  I couldn't drive to and from two-a-days, and it was seven miles one way from home to the school, so my oldest little brother and I got dropped off in the morning, went to the morning practice, stayed in town all day, went to the second practice, then walked seven miles home in the evening.  It was brutal, but the lesson was learned.  I never drove the friend anywhere again, and had to be forced to drive the loudmouth brother anywhere.  Snitches.

snitch-snitches-get-stiches.gif

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